Page 18 of Wings of Valor (Silver City University #4)

I f sleep is peaceful, then why is my heart beating so fast?

I move my arm, trying to find a comfier position, but all it does is send a wave of discomfort through me as blood flow returns to my dead arm. I feel like a pincushion with how much it stings and tingles all at once.

As much as I want to groan, I keep quiet. If Hayliel and the others are sleeping nearby, I don’t want to wake them.

I shift again, another round of imaginary needles pushing through my arm. Fuck me. I must’ve been lying on it for hours.

It’s dark, or at least, I think it is. I can’t really tell.

Something feels off, but I can’t place it.

Right as that thought enters my mind, I catch a scent that turns my stomach.

Copper and dust and something undeniably foul make me want to throw up.

Then, as if someone flipped a switch, I’m bombarded with sound.

Angels whisper somewhere nearby, though I can’t make out their words.

Behind their whispered voices, a steady hum grows louder.

It’s like whoever controls the volume doesn’t care that it feels like my ears might start bleeding at any second.

I scramble to cover my ears and get away from that horrid scent, but I realize I’m not on a bed like I thought. My hands don’t drift over soft linen; instead, I find hard, uneven stone beneath my fingers.

Where am I?

My head throbs again. I press harder against my ears, trying to stop the insufferable noise.

There’s a moment of peace, but it doesn’t last. I feel the limp, wet strands of my hair beneath my hands and wonder what the fuck is happening.

Why is my hair wet? Why am I on a stone floor?

And why does my entire body feel grimy and slick with sweat?

I lick my dry lips and instantly regret it as the taste of salt, dirt, and something chemical coats my taste buds. Without thinking, I spit my saliva out on the ground, desperate to get the taste out of my mouth.

When I glance back up, a shaft of light illuminates my surroundings, making me freeze. Metal bars. Stone walls. And no sign of Hayliel, Raphael, or Theo anywhere.

Then it all comes back.

Hayliel’s secret meeting with Auriel. His attack. Fucking Atlas.

I growl as everything hits me at once. The betrayal. The possibility of Mira working with her father against us. How close Hayliel came to getting hurt.

But she didn’t. She’s safe. And as long as she stays with the others and doesn’t foolishly rush off to put herself in harm’s way again, she’ll stay that way.

As my heart rate settles, I blink a few times, still feeling groggy from whatever Atlas drugged me with. I might not be completely coherent yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless. All I need is a plan to get the fuck out of here, but first I need to figure out where here is.

As more light filters in from somewhere up above, I can finally make out the color of the stone beneath me. It’s beige—like sand. I guess Atlas didn’t take me to the guild, then, considering I’ve never seen this type of rock there.

I try to check out the ceiling, but the motion makes my head spin, and before I know it, I’m vomiting on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

My body goes still. The voice is familiar. It almost sounds like my hummingbird, but that must just be my mind playing tricks on me. She can’t be here. I don’t want her here.

I spit more vomit-coated saliva on the ground and glance toward the voice. Two figures are in the cell next to mine. They’re pressed up against the metal bars, watching me with concern.

Hayliel’s parents.

“You’re alive,” is all I manage to say out loud.

Inwardly, I’m desperately trying to let Hayliel know her parents are still breathing.

When that doesn’t work, I move on to the others, needing someone outside of this godforsaken cell to hear me, but the connections are too blurry.

They shift in and out of focus, likely because of these damn drugs. Fuck!

“They haven’t harmed us since the initial capture, so we’re mostly healed. Though they like to keep us malnourished and quiet,” Hayliel’s dad says. Shit, what’s his name again? Cal, maybe? Fuck these fucking drugs.

With worry etched across every line of her face, Hayliel’s mother asks, “How the hell did they get you? Is Hayliel …”

“Safe,” I whisper. “She’s safe, though I won’t lie and say it wasn’t close. Your daughter—”

A door opens, cutting off my words. Several sets of footsteps approach my cell, and now that my eyes have adjusted, I see who it is. Auriel stands with two demons at his back, the same ones who helped subdue me. Atlas isn’t with them, and that just makes me angry.

“Ah. You’re awake,” Auriel says, leaning casually against his staff.

“I see you’ve met our other guests. Splendid.

Glad to see you’ll all get along in your new home.

Now. I just need to borrow this lovely angel, but I’ll have him back before you can say No, don’t hurt him .

” He shifts the tone of his voice, mimicking a broken angel.

“Not that begging will do you any good.” He giggles maniacally.

Is it just the drugs still in my system, or does he sound crazed as hell?

That thought gives me an idea. I slump a little further, playing up the fact I’m still disoriented—which isn’t really that hard considering I am lethargic and still fucked up from whatever they gave me.

Auriel unlocks my cell door, and the two demons yank me out.

They don’t even attempt to be gentle, not caring a bit that their grip feels like they might tear my arms clean off or whether they make my head spin with how they’re throwing me around.

Still, I bide my time. They’re making the one mistake all kidnappers do—letting the prisoner out of their cage.

Auriel hangs back, allowing the demons to lead the way. With my head down, I search the long hallway for anything I can use to escape. I don’t really expect to find a flashing neon exit sign, so when I see one glowing at the end of the hall, it takes a second for it to register.

Escape. I can escape.

Without a second thought, I tear my arms free of the demon’s hold and race toward the exit. I nearly fall flat on my ass, tripping over nothing but my own two feet, but I don’t stop. I’m so close I can almost taste it.

Freedom.

Her.

I shove the door open, bright light nearly blinding me. But it’s not from the sun, and the door doesn’t lead outside.

This is no exit.

I whirl around, but the two demons block my path with their large, leathery forms. They let Auriel pass between them, and I instinctively retreat farther into the room.

“It was a good attempt,” Auriel says, like he loves watching the hope die in my eyes. The two demons shut the door, and it’s only when I bump into something behind me that I realize just how screwed I am.

A lone chair with only a metal rod for a back sits empty in the center of the room. It’s bolted to the floor, with several chains on either side. Behind it, along the far wall, is a table lined with instruments I know are going to cause me pain. Maybe if I can reach them first, I’d—

“I wouldn’t,” Auriel whispers in my ear. I whirl around, but he’s not there. “See? You’re no match for me.”

I turn again to find him standing beside the table, his staff leaning against the wall while he holds what looks to be a pair of pruning shears. He opens and closes them, the snip snip sound making me want to throw up. How the hell did he get over there?

I plunge my hand into my pocket, searching for the protective amulet we’ve all carried since I stole them from the guild, except it’s not there. When I look up, I find Auriel grinning. He must have taken it and my slate when I was unconscious.

Before I get the chance to do or say anything else, I’m grabbed from behind and forced into the chair. I try to fight the demons off. I kick and strain to free myself from their hold, but the drugs still flowing through my system keep me weak.

“Now, now. Calm down,” Auriel says while the demons wrap a chain around my waist, tying me to the metal rod at my back. “We’re only going to ask you a few questions about the Seraphim girl. Answer them, and we’ll bring you back to your cell with barely a scratch.”

He wants information about my hummingbird? I’d rather die. “No.”

Auriel only smiles. “Suit yourself.” He nods to one of the demons, who hands him a vial of green shimmering liquid. I clamp my mouth shut, unwilling to let the bastard pour whatever the fuck that is down my throat.

With my arms and legs still free, I manage to dig an elbow into the stomach of the closest demon, but that only pisses him off.

The demon holding the vial of green fluid grins, his sharp teeth glinting in the fluorescent lights as the other demon grabs my arms in a punishing grip.

I cry out as he twists them the wrong way, giving the asshole demon the perfect opportunity to pour the contents down my throat.

I spit out half of it before they clamp my mouth shut, and I’m forced to swallow the vile liquid.

The concoction takes effect instantly. My back tingles, my shoulders ache, and then my wings spring free.

What the fuck?

The demons step back, giving Auriel room to walk around me. “Now, where to begin?” The piece of fucking shit trails a finger along my feathers until he’s in front of me again. “An easy one first. What does the Seraphim intend to do about her parents?”

I glare at him, and he smiles. “Hmm, okay. What about … ah. Got it. Where does she spend most of her time on campus?”

This fucking guy. If he actually thinks I’ll give him any answers, he’s delusional. I look away, but Auriel grips my chin, forcing my gaze to his.

“You will speak,” he snarls.

“I will never betray her.”

Auriel sighs. “Right. Of course. It’s no matter.

I was hoping you’d say that, anyway.” He releases my chin, and before I can twist around to see where he went, I feel someone touch my wings.

“For every answer you refuse to give, there will be a consequence. That’s two so far, right, boys? ” The demons only grunt in answer.

One second passes, then two, before a searing pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before shoots through my wings.

It happens again, and I turn to find two black feathers floating to the floor.

I grit my teeth to stop from shouting as my body tightens, preparing for another feather to be torn from my wings. But nothing happens.

“Answer my questions, and you might just have enough of these left to fly with.”